<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Slices of Life by iwritesomestuffsometimes</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998246">Slices of Life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritesomestuffsometimes/pseuds/iwritesomestuffsometimes'>iwritesomestuffsometimes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Reginald Hargreeves, Affection, Allison Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Angst, BAMF Allison Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Bisexual Allison Hargreeves, Bisexual Diego Hargreeves, Brothers, Dead Reginald Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Ghost Ben Hargreeves, Good Sibling Allison Hargreeves, Good Sibling Vanya Hargreeves, Healing, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Lesbian Vanya Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Mentioned Reginald Hargreeves, Pansexual Klaus Hargreeves, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Protective Luther Hargreeves, Protective Vanya Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sisters, Slice of Life, Sober Klaus Hargreeves, Soft Luther Hargreeves, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves Deserves Better, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:21:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998246</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritesomestuffsometimes/pseuds/iwritesomestuffsometimes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Family dinners with seven people are always chaotic. Throw in a lot of trauma, some mental illness, a lifelong rivalry, superpowers and the ability to speak nineteen languages and it might just be hell. However, since they, or rather Vanya, had blown up the old academy, they had all been staying to help rebuild it. Family dinners were a mandatory once a week thing. </p><p>Basically a bunch of slice of lives about healing and families.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Luther was currently trying to find a job, which was quite difficult for someone with a less than impressive resume. Diego had moved out of his tiny boiler room apartment to live back in the academy. After her divorce, Allison had moved across the country to work on her film career in New York. Klaus didn’t have anything better to do, so he was camping out in the Academy. And where Klaus went, Ben followed. Meanwhile, Five also had nowhere else to go. Vanya had kept her apartment in the city, but she spent more time in the Academy then her old home. Even so, their schedules hardly lined up. You would think all living in the same space would make it easier but it felt more like a wall of tension. Despite all they’d been through, their past still haunted them. Hence the family dinners. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Sunday afternoon, the day of the dinner. In this case, it would be takeout since it was Klaus’s day to cook and Klaus didn’t exactly know how to cook. Klaus breezed into the family room, happy to see Vanya, Allison, and Five in one room. All the easier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, yзэсгэлэнтэй гэр бүл. I was wondering what you wanted for the dindins. I was thinking maybe Thai but je ne sais pas.” (<em>Beautiful family, I don't know)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vanya looked up from her copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream of the Red Chamber</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Didn’t we have Thai, you know uhm, 你怎么用英语说一周?” <em>(How do you say week in English?)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Week. And yes. We did have Thai last week.” Allison said. “Honestly, Klaus you should try cooking one time. It’s like they say det är ingen ko på isen.” <em>(There's no cow on the ice. It means there's no need to worry)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That means nothing to me but thank you. I’m sure it’s beautiful. You guys should try not speaking in tongues.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, firstly,” Five said, straightening his already impeccable posture, “you did start it. Secondly, it’s a great way to improve and keep your mind agile, not like you have much of a brain left. Thirdly, get Indian.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jeez Five. Here I was thinking you would be nice for once in your life. Instead of languages, maybe learn manners.” Klaus said, sulking out of the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dinner is ready, mis amigos.” Klaus shouted. “Bon appetit and dig in.” <em>(My friends)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As everyone settled into their chairs, a cacophony of noise could be heard. Chairs being dragged, food being requested, forks scraping on plates, and occasional coughs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, Luther,” Allison said smiling. “How goes the job search?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. I have an interview in a couple of days and I have a good feeling about it.” Luther beamed, happy to feel like he would finally be pulling his weight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.” Vanya cheered, clapping a hand onto his shoulder. She knew how hard Luther had worked in order to get a job. “Once you get the job, we should go out and celebrate…” Her gaze flickered around the room, eyes drawn away from the conversation. “Diego, no extra knives at the table.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diego looked up from his plate. “Das ist eine dumme regel.” <em>(That's a stupid rule)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A language we all speak, please. You got twelve to choose from.” Klaus chirped, leaning back in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You speak German.” Diego pointed out, pushing his brother’s seat back down with a casual hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but me and Vanya here are the only ones. Hardly seems fair to the rest of them. Although, it does feel like it was their fault for choosing to remain uncultured.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uncultured mon col. German sounds like you’re vomiting up vowels.” Luther shouted across the table. <em>(My ass)</em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is no reason to shout. Klaus is sitting a foot away from you. Идиоты the lot of you.” Five rolled his eyes. <em>(Idiots)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My name’s Five. I’m stuck going through puberty again. I’m grumpy and I hate everything.” Klaus mocked, getting a couple smiles. Five, however, smiled a dangerous smile. He slowly picked up a spoonful of Chole and launched it. It landed perfectly on Klaus’s face. It slowly dripped down as his siblings roared in laughter. Klaus looked ready to retaliate until a look from Allison had him settle down in his seat again. Whilst everyone was distracted, Vanya reached over; having Diego hand her his knife as she did. When he turned to look at her, she simply winked; communicating exactly what she was going to say to him later. Diego shifted in his seat, completely out of his comfort area now. No one else noticed this exchange as Ben had thrown naan bread at Allison. Unfortunately, before a full food fight could break out, Vanya broke the tension. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could you pass me the water s’il te plaît?” Allison handed her the water, giving her a grateful smile. <em>(Please)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how was the rest of your days?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Meh. They were what they were.” Klaus added nodding sagely as if that made any sense. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God. Do you have to be so annoying about everything?” Luther snapped seeming to have had enough of family dinner. That happened sometimes when moods were especially wild. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just because Daddy dearest didn’t give you enough love doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.” Klaus snapped right back. The tension was seeping into the air now, so thick you could cut it with a butter knife. Allison looked ready to jump in, as did Ben and Vanya. But as it turned out none of them needed to. As Luther turned redder, looking more ready to strangle Klaus to death, Diego’s hand shot out, knocking over Vanya’s full cup of water. It sloshed over the table, dripping onto Allison’s legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck Diego? That’s cold. Now, I have to change my clothes. Jesus Christ.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S..s..s my bad.” He stammered out. “It was an accident. I can get a to…” His voice seemed to have gotten stuck on his tongue. He hated when that happened. It was worse than his stutter. At least then, words came out. Although slowly. It was better than nothing than this. “I can get an... asciugamano.” He pushed away from the table frantically heading to the linen closet. <em>(Towel)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on with him?” Klaus stage whispered to Vanya. “He’s acting like we’re gonna murder him or something.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vanya rolled her eyes, hitting Klaus on his head. “You need to stop being such a cadela. Maybe if you and Luther could make it through a meal without fighting, he wouldn’t be scared for his life.” <em>(Bitch)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault. I’m innocent in all of this.” Klaus pouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Innocent my ass.” Allison cackled as Diego came back in with a towel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Allison. It was just an accident.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is no problem, Diego. Sometimes things happen. At least you didn’t start the apocalypse.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Twice.” Five pointed out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vanya blushed and pointed a fork at him. “Maybe if you stopped being a brat, I would stop causing apocalypses.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a chance,” Klaus muttered, earning him a glare from both Vanya and Five. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m calling it now,” Luther said, pulling away from the table. “This is enough for me. In terms of food and fighting.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right. I’ll see y’all later.” Klaus skipped away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the rest of the table peeled away, Vanya pulled Diego aside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bist du okay?” She whispered, despite speaking in a language only one other person spoke. <em>(Are you okay?)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Es geht mir gut.” He said, pulling out of her grasp and stalking to his room. <em>(I'm fine)</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m coming up later. We’re talking. For once.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, whatever you say.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Knock knock,” Vanya said, rapping on his door. “It’s later. So I’m here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi here. I’m Diego.” Diego said not looking up from where he was lying on his floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would hope so. Identifying brothers is something I’m good at.” She was making jokes but there was still a lot of tension. “So what was that at dinner?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you mean. Give me my knife back”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I want to have an actual conversation with you. So you can have it back once we’re done.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. You want to have a serious conversation? Then how come you’re still keeping your apartment? How come you don’t practice your powers? How c...c...come you’re still hiding from us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Diego. This is not an interrogation. I just want to help you.” She sat down on the floor next to him and stretched out her hand to touch his shoulder. The second her hand came in range, he jerked away from her. Skidding halfway across the room until his back was firmly against the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone w...w...w…” He ran his hands through his hair. “Everyone says that. But I don’t need help. I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because that screamed fine right?” Vanya raised an eyebrow at him, a skill that took her hours to perfect. “Look, I’m not judging you. I have some fucked up shit going on in my head too. Dad messed us all up, and I know that you feel like you have to be perfect and a big brother but that’s not true. You’re allowed to need help too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know jack shit. Stop acting like you get it. Dad fucked you up but I fucked myself up. I always do. Now, can I please have my fucking knife back?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out the knife. It was a pretty boring knife, all things considered. It looked like it could have been picked up at any corner store. She held it out to him, but as he reached for it, she grabbed his hand. “However, you need to stop pulling this stoic Batman stic. It’s getting old.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hündin.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah. Promise?” She smirked, still not letting go of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I promise. Next time I need help, I will ask for some. Now let go of my hand.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vanya let go but didn’t move from her spot on the floor. “So.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on? You promised to drop the act.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diego rolled his eyes. “I promised that I would ask for help next time I needed it. I don’t so I don’t need to do anything.” As he said this, his left eye quickly winked before his hand shot out. The knife passed inches away from Vanya’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell? Jesus Christ. I get the message. You don’t want to talk. But you don’t have to try to murder me. What is wrong with you?” She quickly stood up, turning to go out the door. “Next time you need help, don’t bother asking me. I’ve learned what happens when you try.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shut the door, leaving Diego alone on his floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goddamnit. What the hell? Why can’t you just be fucking normal?” Diego said, talking to himself, an unhealthy trait he had picked up at the asylum. He could feel the tears bunching behind his eyes. He blinked a couple of times trying to magically make them disappear. Even as he was trying, he could feel his breath starting to clump. “Fuck, fuck fuck. Okay. What did m...m….m….mom always say? Something something deep breaths.” He was pacing around his room, trying to stifle his sobs. Without even thinking about it, his hand had shot up. Punching his head didn’t solve the problem but man it helped. Sure, there was a bit of pain, but he knew that one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna die.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S...s...shut up. No o...o...one asked you.” God. He had really gone insane this time. He was having legitimate conversations with himself. Well sort of. He hadn’t really thought about the first one. But still. It was getting harder to calm down and he couldn’t stop. Everything was blurring and he didn’t know what to do. His hands were drumming on himself, even as his head jerked to the side. There was too much going on. He walked over to his dresser, pulling out one of his knives. He paced around, flicking it open and closed until he felt a little bit calmer. Finally, once he felt in control, he left the room. He didn’t think about what he was doing until he had made it to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Diego flicked his eyes over to the table where Klaus was sitting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Yeah, I’m fine. Why? What are you doing here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Woah Woah. Okay, calm down. First of all, come sit down. You look like you’re about to woof your cookies.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you are.” Klaus grabbed Diego’s hand, dragging him to another seat. “Now when was the last time you had something to drink?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Is that a thing people keep track of?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It is. Or so I’ve heard. Ever since I decided to become sober, I’ve actually noticed these things. Now, drink this.” He placed a glass of water in front of Diego. “Water fixes everything.” He waited until he saw Diego drink the first sip before he turned around. “Does hot chocolate sound good?” Before he could get an answer, the glass slammed against the wall, leaving shards of glass. “Bloody hell man. I didn’t poison it or anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S..s..s, my bad.” Diego croaked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your bad? I’ll say. You almost soaked my shirt. And I like this shirt.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t bother, Klaus.” Vanya was standing in the doorway. “ He doesn’t care.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Vanya. I’m…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Save it. I don’t care. Do whatever you want.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I can explain. Maybe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both turned towards him. He could feel the tension building in his throat. “It’s like uhm w...w...w, Klaus could you stop that?” He snapped. Klaus looked at his fingers which he had been tapping. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah. Whoopsie.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. I don’t know the w...w...word for it. But you know like when Ben was y...y… Klaus?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Possession?” Vanya looked scandalized. “You’re trying to tell me that you’ve been possessed? That’s your excuse.” She turned to walk away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on Vanya. Hear him out.” Klaus begged. He pulled her into a corner. “He’s actually talking. Maybe it’s a metaphor. Are you really gonna just leave when he’s finally opening up?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He almost killed me earlier!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And he almost wrecked my skirt. I forgave him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A skirt is not equivalent to a face, Klaus.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno. The skirt is silk.” At the look on Vanya’s face, Klaus stopped joking. “Look, just five minutes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. But if it’s complete bullshit, you owe me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They turned back to Diego. “Okay so buddy boy, explain this possession of yours. I am a ghost expert. Maybe I can help.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not e...e...exactly like possession. Because when you were Ben, you were Ben. But like I’m still me. It’s just sometimes I don’t have control. Like when I threw the glass or,” he made a loud popping noise, almost like someone had just snapped bubble gum, “like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vanya’s eyes widened. “How long has this been happening, Diego?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Long as I can remember. I’m just usually better at controlling it. I’m sorry. I never should have lost control. And I didn’t w...want to hurt you. I swear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vanya let out a little laugh. “Diego. There’s a word for this. They’re tics.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? He’s being possessed by those little bugs? But he always wears long pants. How could he get them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Klaus. Stop being an idiot. It’s a medical thing. I’ll get you to a doctor as soon as I can. There are treatments and medications and things. It’s really not a big deal. I wish you hadn’t kept this to yourself.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No doctors. I don’t need one. Like I said, hardly happens. Hargreeves taught me pretty well. Lots of control.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus looked up in surprise. “You have a doctor, Vanya? I just go to rehab.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When was the last time any of you went to the doctor? Like an actual doctor, not Mom.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both awkwardly looked around. “Never.” They echoed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And Luther was on the moon so he’s a no. Five was stuck in the future. Does Allison have a doctor? Diego, you lived on your own for years.” Vanya walked around in shock. “I’ll get all you guys in. Now, Diego clean up the glass. And Klaus, get some sleep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both nodded and went off to their respective tasks. Vanya walked up to Diego and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks for telling us. I know it wasn’t easy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, it helped that I didn’t want to be known as the one that almost killed my sister. That one still belongs to you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She poked him in the stomach. “Brat. Next time, I won’t forgive you.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Once again, if there is a better way to portray Diego's stuttering please let me know. I'm basing this off what I've seen online. And the Story begins.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The room was almost silent. Keyword being almost. Five was in the middle trying to concentrate. Keyword being trying. On a normal day, he would have figured out this equation already. But this was not a normal day. Instead, his day had been filled with tension, all coming to a point here. The answer was there but the math didn’t make sense. Usually, two plus two makes four but on days like this, it made twelve. And the wind outside was so loud. It reminded him of being a kid again. Times he tried to forget. Sure he was a teenager in body but he was smarter. He wasn’t a kid. He wasn’t a kid. He wasn’t a kid. He was better than that. Better than he was. And now he was thinking about it. The things they never talked about. The stuff they all pretended didn’t exist. The times when he wasn’t enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Number Five. Would you care to explain just what is so exciting outside the window? I am sure if it is important enough to distract you from your studies, your siblings would also have an interest in it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice was grating.  Not quite a memory. More like when you leave a cup of water on wood. A distortion. A stain. None of these the right words but in the general vicinity. Sometimes the words would go too fast and he couldn’t grab onto any of them. Like butterflies or when the winds swoop through trees in the fall, sending leaves everywhere. He knew that he was supposed to answer him but who cares about social conventions when nobody is there? This was simply a trauma response, caused by stress. His brain was reacting by sending him back to childhood. A common response. Especially for people who had suffered trauma. Which included him. The solution? Ignore it and wait for everything to return to normal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am talking to you, Number Five. This is a simple problem and you are the only one not done yet. I’m tired of your lackluster results. You should be ahead of this already.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His fingers tightened on the pencil. Just a trauma response. Ignore and wait. Ignore and wait. He isn’t actually there. Just a projection of emotions. Nothing there. Projection not reality. What was reality was this pencil. He rolled it between his fingers. Back and forth waiting and waiting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Number Five. Enough of this insolence. You will grow up and act like it. There is nothing at the window except for the wind. Any normal person could concentrate. Grow up. Do your math equation and stop wasting my time.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. Shut up. You are not real. You have no impact on this world. You are dead.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, clearly I have an impact on you. Since I’m here. Admit it. You know you would be nothing without me. I made you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands gripped the pencil tighter, his knuckles turning white. He tried to force the image out of his mind, hoping he would go away. He could feel the anxiety building, promising a meltdown. Instead, a knock on the door startled him. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, y'all. I was wondering if you guys could tell me what the preferred form for the other language bits is. I put it after the sentence in this case but if there's something preferred please let me know</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>